Revelations in Invisibility
by Twerksie
Summary: It's James, Lily, and a whole bunch of words under the invisibility cloak. How much can they hide? They'll all be revealed in time.


**Revelations in Invisibility  
**By Kimmy

Done for lilyjames_fest over at LJ. Hope you enjoy!

_It's James, Lily, and a whole bunch of words under the invisibility cloak. How much can they hide? They'll all be revealed in time._

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* * *

_

The guilt that churned uncomfortably in her stomach was what finally convinced her to look for him.

She had almost gotten through a full day without caving, was so very close to the finish line that was her warm four-poster bed and the dreams that awaited her in sleep – but then she'd taken a seat at dinner next to her friends, and the absence of his laughter amongst the chink of cutlery had planted the seeds of guilt in her gut. It had taken root and seemed almost to be bursting through to her heart by the time she had tracked down Sirius Black to ask about his best friend's whereabouts.

Sirius's grey eyes grew sharp when he heard her question. He managed to answer courteously, though Lily could hear a trace of reproach in his reply. "He's down by the lake." A pause, and then a small frown. "Don't break his heart, Evans."

She hadn't answered, just thanked him and tried to walk with something other than jelly in her legs as she strode to the portrait hole to find James. She was nervous, she had to admit, and the guilt was now strangling her heart, thanks to Sirius's words, and inching up steadily towards her throat. She never dreamed she'd ever have to do this, to seek James Potter out and ask for his forgiveness. She never thought she'd ever be in the wrong with him.

Sirius was right; James was by the lake, sitting on the bank. He was leaning back on his arms, his head tilted back to face the night sky, where the moon hung heavy and tired. As she approached, she noticed something in his lap; fabric, something light and shimmering silver in the moonlight. His invisibility cloak, the one he'd used to sneak her to the kitchens so many nights ago.

The fact that he had it, and wasn't using it – she felt the ropes around her heart loosen by a minuscule percentage, because it told her that he wanted to be found. This realization bolstered her courage, and as she drew nearer to the figure on the bank of Hogwarts Lake, near enough to see that his eyes were closed despite the brilliant shine of the stars, she managed to find her voice. "James?"

It was barely more than a whisper, but she knew he heard her by the barest of reactions. A sigh. The kind he took before telling someone off, a regretful sigh. Whatever was going to happen, he didn't want it to come.

"Yes, Lily?" His tone was light, but – though he hadn't moved – every inch of him belied the tension of the moment. He finally opened his eyes and turned to look at her, piercing her with the weight of all she knew he wouldn't say. A small frown touched his lips. "Come and sit," he said gently, leaning forward and patting the grass next to him.

So she did, taking pains to breathe normally and calm her racing heart. She sat as close to him as she dared, allowing her elbow to brush his as she settled herself down on the grass. She felt it was an apology of sorts, but when she met his eyes in the moment afterward, his eyes still shone dark.

There was a heavy silence as she tore her eyes away and adjusted her skirt around her knees, as she smoothed down her hair, inspected the button coming loose on her blouse, keeping her hands busy because her mind had taken on a strange, unsettling quiet in James's presence. She wished he would say something, but his head had tilted back once again to watch the sky and he didn't seem intent on speaking to her.

She let her gaze rest on his profile as she started nervously picking at the grass next to her. She cleared her throat. He ignored her.

Right. She deserved that. She was surprised he was even allowing her to talk to him, considering what she'd done.

"Look, James," she started hesitantly, watching his expression carefully, "We're… we're friends, right?"

She saw his jaw tense, but he otherwise remained still, his eyes still turned upwards toward the stars.

She waited for an answer, but none was forthcoming. She tried again, not without a little trepidation. "…Right?"

It was another few seconds before he opened his mouth, and another two before he answered. When he did, his voice was cool. "I don't know, Lily. Are we?" He still hadn't turned again to look at her, but it was just as well, she thought, because then he would have seen the guilt that stung her insides and made her flinch, even at his quiet tones.

"James," she said again, even softer, and his name elicited another ragged sigh from his mouth. The sound carried her courage, and it pushed at her lips until- "Merlin, James, I'm sorry. You know I'm sorry."

That turned his head. He surveyed her through his glasses, his handsome face still touched by the smallest of frowns. "Lily, do you even know why I'm angry?"

The question threw her off. Of course she knew why he was angry. She repeated that to him, confused marked in her tone, but he only tilted his head and looked at her expectantly. "So why am I angry?"

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She furrowed her eyebrows at the grass, picking absently at them once again. Why was he angry? She frowned as she remembered the scene in the Great Hall yesterday; the pretty Ravenclaw who had wrapped her scarf around James's neck and whispered goodness-knows-what in his ear, leaving his cheeks stained red and laughter on Sirius's lips.

Lily had only just sat down a couple of seats away, but as the Ravenclaw sashayed away with a pointed glance in Lily's direction, Lily had pushed her empty plate away and gone to give James a good talking-to – a talking-to, of course, which had consisted mainly of yelling on her part and frantic denials on James's. It had ended without James getting a word in edgewise as she stalked out of the hall in the midst of whispers.

It was only that night, staring at the ceiling of her four-poster bed, that she realized how she'd jumped so quickly to conclusions. Sure, the girl had given James her scarf, and sure, he'd let her – but he'd been so shell-shocked that Lily was doubtful he'd have been able to do much else than blush to the tips of his ears.

She'd tried the next day, after a night of guilt-filled tossing and turning, to apologize – but he'd avoided her like the plague for most of the day. She tried to push it to the back of her mind, but dinner came along and his absence – so notable for the fact that he had never _ever _missed a single dinner at Hogwarts prior – had her close to tears. It was thus with relief that she'd found him here – invisibility cloak unused in his lap – on the banks of the lake.

She swallowed a guilty sigh at the recollection. "W-well," she began, "Obviously I… overreacted… about… _her."_

There was only silence when she finished. She looked up shyly, wary of his reaction, to see him still watching her expressionlessly. Her cheeks burned. What did he want from her? She went back to her grass.

It was a few seconds afterward that he finally said, "You weren't overreacting."

Her hands were suddenly still, but her tongue was anything but. "_Excuse _me?" She wasn't overreacting? So there was actually some basis to her assumptions about him and the Ravenclaw? Anger stained her cheeks. Why then was she apologizing?

He chuckled humorlessly at her tone. "She likes me, Lily."

That definitely wasn't what Lily wanted to hear. "Oh, well, good for you," she snapped, eyes narrowing at the smirk forming on his face. She began to stand, dusting off her hands against her skirt viciously. "I'm so glad to hear you're getting along so well with each other. Now would you like to waste my time on anything else? Or am I free to go?"

Without waiting for an answer, she turned away. She expected the hand that wrapped around her wrist when she started walking, but it didn't make it any more welcome. "Let go of me, James," she spat. She tried to twist away, but he'd climbed to his feet as well and was holding fast.

"Lily," he said, and maybe it was the way he said it that made her stop – not angry, not cold, not cruel or arrogant. He sounded hurt, she realized, and though she thought he deserved the hurt, and though she'd no idea what could be causing him pain, she still cared for him too much to be able to walk away.

She tried not to let her weakness show, though, turning her head when he tried to meet her eyes and setting her jaw. "How dare you try and make me feel guilty about yesterday, James Potter," she said venomously, "when I seem to have every right to be."

"That's _ridiculous_, Lily, and you know it."

The proclamation had her head spinning in anger as she turned coldly to meet his eyes. "Ridiculous?" she repeated incredulously. "How is it _ridiculous _that I've been feeling guilty about jumping to the _right conclusion?"_

The look he gave her – so serious,so responsible, so unlike the James of two years ago_ – _would have made her smile under any other circumstances – but here, with her wrist throbbing in his hand and his eyes burning through hers, she couldn't be anything but angry.

"First of all," he said, and she could tell by the slight tremor in his voice that he was containing himself, "That's not what I think is ridiculous." She raised her chin defiantly and opened her mouth to interrupt, but he pushed on before she could, his eyebrows furrowed. "_Second of all,_ Lily," and here he paused to swallow hard and take a deep breath. He was trying to calm down, and the fact that he had to – it frightened her, just a little bit. She was relieved when she felt him loosen his grip on her wrist to gently take her hand. "Second of all," he repeated, softer, meeting her eyes, "I never said you jumped to the right conclusion."

It took a couple of moments for the words to sink in, but when they did, she still couldn't understand them. "Stop speaking in riddles," she said weakly. "What the hell is _ridiculous, _and what conclusions _should _I be jumping to?"

Her words were bitter; she didn't mean them to be, but she was so _confused, _what was he playing at? – but when he spoke, his voice was gentle. "The conclusion you should be jumping to," he said – slowly, as if thinking the words through very carefully – "is that that girl means absolutely nothing."

His words, once they sunk through her irritation, afforded Lily some comfort- but she still didn't understand what was going on. "Then what's the problem?" If that Ravenclaw meant nothing, then what in the world were they arguing about?

"That's a good question, Lily," and now James's voice was amused – lighthearted, even.

She was vaguely aware that he'd laced his fingers through hers, and that he was now surveying their linked hands in barely concealed satisfaction – but she wasn't going to allow herself to be distracted. Not that much, at least. His smile never failed to steal a little of her anger away, and now he was using it to his advantage. She struggled to maintain a firm voice. "Didn't I tell you to stop speaking in riddles?"

He lifted his eyes to hers, and she tried to push down the blush that threatened to reveal her weakness when he smiled. "You think we can stop arguing then?" he said, tilting his head innocently. "And maybe sit down?"

She didn't trust herself to say anything, so she looked away and pretended not to care. "Fine," she mumbled, and fought against her better judgment to tug her hand out of his to settle down on the grass again. She was waiting petulantly for him to join her, pulling up grass once again, when she suddenly felt something soft being draped around her shoulders. Startled, she looked around just in time to see James settling next to her, tugging the invisibility cloak over their heads. "W-what are you doing?" she spluttered, exceedingly conscious of the fact that she was alone with _James Potter _underneath a piece of fabric that rendered them invisible. "If this is some sick ploy to snog me, Potter, you've – a-are you _laughing at me?"_

At that, James bit his lip to stifle his laughter. "Lily," he managed, "You are the most infuriating girl on the planet." He looked at the edges of the cloak gathered under their shoes. "We can't be seen if we're out after curfew, Evans," he said, a smile in his voice as he bumped his shoulder against hers.

That wasn't anything to laugh about in Lily's opinion, but she relaxed under his amused gaze. She looked away. _Oh, _if he weren't so charming… "I don't understand why you think that's funny," she said, "But you had better start explaining your behavior before I decide to leave you here."

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Still smiling. She crossed her arms, and tried to remain irritated. "Well, hurry it up then."

The smile fell a little at her demand, then he sighed that stupid sigh. The sound of it made her nervous. He ran his hand through his hair and then began. "You asked earlier…whether we were friends. Do you remember that?"

At Lily's slightly confused nod, he delved on.

"Well, Lily, I…like to think we are. In fact," he said, as he hesitantly took her hand again, "I like to think we're more than that." He slid his gaze to her, but she could only sigh and look away. Of course. She should have seen this coming.

Seeing that she wasn't planning on replying, James, after a moment's painful pause, continued. "But that's the thing, isn't it? I can only _think _we're more than that, because I don't _know _what we are."

"James," Lily said quietly, her voice trembling slightly because of the lump in her throat, "You _know _what we are."

"No, actually," he said quickly. "No, I don't know what we are." He twisted his body so that he could look at her face, but she continued to look at the ground, her mouth twisted in conflict. Merlin help her, she didn't want to deal with this right now. "Lily." His voice was little more than a plea. "Can we please talk about this?"

"There's nothing to talk about, James," she said feebly.

"There's _everything _to talk about, Lily," he corrected. He bit his lip in indecision for a second before he plowed on. "I mean, I know where you stand with me, but where I stand with you – that's a different story. One day, you'll act like we're nothing more than friends- but then there are other days, like yesterday, when you seem to think we're something more." Lily couldn't help the small sound that escaped her at that. He squeezed her hand in response, adjusting their fingers once again so they were linked together. "I'm sorry," he said quickly, expelling a short breath, "But this has been going on for months now, and I want to know whether you want what I want, and if you do, when it's going to happen." A pause. A subtle shake of the head. "Or if it ever even will."

She had never heard him speak so plainly before, had never heard him speak without cracking an innuendo-laced joke every other sentence – he was serious for once, and to see James so serious – about _her – _it scared her. To have his happiness so reliant on her feelings, to have another life so intimately connected with hers – it scared her.

"Lily." He had said her name so many times before, but there was something different that motivated him this time – she heard it, raw and untainted, in those two syllables. And whatever it was that he was planning to say – that scared her too.

"Lily, will you please look at me?" He sounded so desperate, as though his very life depended on whether she'd meet his eyes, that she did what he asked. She lifted her eyes from the grass at her feet and into his eyes, and the emotion she saw within nearly made her cry. Now that unknown something wasn't just in his voice, it was in _him, _and everything was changing so fast for just one night. "Lily, I need to know what we are. I'm so tired of trying to figure out whether or not it's alright to send you a valentine, or whether that would get my head chewed off for even considering it."

He let out a short, almost self-deprecating, chuckle. "Sometimes, when we're saying goodnight, I think about kissing you – but I don't know whether you'd let me, or whether it's alright, or whether it's only alright on certain days – because I don't know what we are."

He'd thought about kissing her. The admission had her ears burning and something in her chest tightening almost uncomfortably. James's feelings, while always known, had never been voiced so honestly before. The enormity of the situation hit her when she realized that. This is happening, she thought. This is really happening. She had known this day would come, but she had never allowed herself to think about what she'd do when James decided that he finally had enough of her stalling.

James was watching her face as these thoughts flew through her exhausted mind. She could feel the tears stinging at her eyes, so she looked away again before his expression drew them out. He sighed for the thousandth time that night. She hated herself for putting him through this, but she wasn't ready for the alternative.

"If," he started heavily, "you tell me what we are, none of this would ever happen again. You can stake your claim on me now, Lily, and nobody but you would be giving me scarves." He lifted his free hand to caress her jaw, which only filled her eyes with tears. "And," he added, "I sure as hell would never let anybody else but me give you scarves._"_

Lily swallowed hard, willing herself not to cry, because that would be admitting this was all actually happening.

"Lily, I love you." He said this as he placed a kiss on the hand he was holding. "You know that. Everybody knows that. I love you, and I'd wait – but if you care for me at all, you'd let me know if I was waiting for nothing."

And at those words, there it was, those tears – spilling onto her cheeks and stealing her breath. She let out a small sob, and oh, how ashamed she was when she heard it, so loud against the still night underneath that damned invisibility cloak.

James heard it too, and there was a sharp intake of breath when he realized she was crying. "Lily- oh, shit, Lily, I'm sorry."

She wanted to refuse his apology, say it wasn't his fault – that Merlin, it was her fault that she was so damn _scared _– but the tears were falling thick and fast and it was all she could do to even keep breathing, much less say all that.

"Dammit." She heard James swear before she felt his arms drawing her closer. "I didn't mean to make you cry, Lily," he said earnestly, almost desperately, as he guided her head to his shoulder. She felt him place a kiss in her hair, and she suddenly, inanely, irrationally felt bad about the fact that she couldn't at least stop crying into his robes. It was all she could manage to do, though, while James hugged her close and whispered miserable apologies. "I'm sorry, Lily," he said, and before she had a chance to gather her breath to tell him to _shut up, are you an idiot, it's not your fault, _he added, "I just- I just wanted to know whether I meant anything to you."

The idea – the very concept of him not meaning anything to her – was so ridiculous (he really was an idiot), but it was apparently anything but to James, who could not seem to understand why Lily started crying harder than ever. The apologies were renewed once more, though in a slightly more panicked tone this time around. "Merlin I'm so sorry Lily didn't mean to make it worse please stop crying please should I just stop talking?"

The whole situation, his reaction, the way his hands fluttered around her in cluelessness – it was all so absurd, so simply solved, that she wanted to laugh – but beyond that was the not-so-simply-solved problem of _love, _and so all she could do was cry.

It was a long time before she stopped, and a couple more minutes more before her shoulders stopped shaking. James, to his credit, bore everything – the sobs, the gasps, the embarrassing tears, the eventual winding-down and the loosening of her grip on his robes – in a stoic, solemn silence, his hands rubbing her back and brushing back her hair as best he could, both of them still contained in their own little world under his cloak.

When all that was left of her crying spell were an occasional sniffle and the damp section of James's robe, James hesitantly spoke, patting her back now awkwardly. "Uh, are- are we done crying now?" One of his hands left its comforting station on her back to lift up her chin. His eyes, worried, skated over her features as though her tears could leave lasting damage.

Watching his face, meeting his eyes and seeing the emotion he held for her – how could she ignore that? How could that not strike a chord in her? How could he _ever_ mean nothing to her? His fears, she thought once again, were so unfounded. She wanted to say that to him, put his fears to rest once and for all, but the subtle pout of his lips as he inspected the trail of tears on her face made her smile, and all that came out was an affectionate, "Merlin, you're such an idiot."

James was only inclined to agree as he frowned at her pink nose. "Yes, yes, an idiot, the biggest, stupidest, idiot for making you cry."

Lily knew, looking at him at that moment, that he'd do anything for her, even if it meant delaying this conversation for another six months. She knew he'd be too scared of upsetting her, too conscious of the potential of making her cry, to even breech the topic. She knew she could use the drying tears on her face to slip away once more, hide away from her fears –

But if James was willing to stay with her without any real proof of her commitment, if he was ready to ignore his fears for her sake, why couldn't she do the same for him?

She had put him through so much already – had dragged him on for so long already, giving him just enough to keep him hooked, but yet still withholding enough to keep herself safe.

But safe from what? It was something she had to ask herself. Feeling his hands cupping her face, seeing the moonlight, the love he had for her, the honesty he had shown her tonight – seeing all of it reflected in his eyes, she had to ask herself, _What am I hiding from? _

James had never been anything but wonderful to her since the school year began. He had never pushed her beyond her comfort zone, had never asked for anything more than her friendship – until tonight, that is, and she figured he had only done it because he couldn't take any more of her hemming and hawing without at least trying for something a little more. There was nothing to hide from in James – he knew everything about her already, took her as she was without demanding her to change. How was she keeping herself safe from heartbreak when James had already taken it upon himself to do just that?

He would never hurt her. Lily knew this, and perhaps seeing something in her eyes change, click, turn on or off or flicker and dance, James laid his forehead against hers. When he spoke – "Lily?" – the warmth of his breath against her lips made her shiver in the evening chill, and though she knew he could feel her reaction, she didn't care.

She reached for the hands on her face, laid her palms against them, and took a deep breath. "Let's talk, James," she said, and she felt something in James's whole frame freeze as her words sunk in.

And then just as suddenly, he leaned back to look at her, the invisibility cloak dragging against his hair and making it even more unruly. There was a silly grin threatening to split his face, and it spoke to Lily of the boundaries she was about to toe, the ones she was about to cross and ignore altogether, the ones he'd only be too glad to dance across – "Really?"

She smiled. She liked dancing. "Really," she confirmed, and the grin overtook his face.

He leaned in quite suddenly, close enough to see that it was there again- the mischievous Marauder spark in his eye. "This means I can kiss you now, right?"

He didn't wait for an answer, but she wasn't expecting him to – not with that grin.

When he drew back, Lily knew she wore an identical one. "We're supposed to be talking," she mumbled, not quite able to hide her embarrassment. Her lips were pleasantly tingling still.

He took her hands, laced her fingers with his own. "And we'll talk," he promised. A wink, a long-lost companion to his grin. "Did you think I'd let you steal a kiss and then leave me hanging, Evans?"

Her mouth dropped open in indignation, but he only laughed and dropped a kiss on her nose, effectively silencing the tirade that would have spilled from her mouth otherwise.

"I'm kidding, love," he said softly, and his whisper seemed to carry even further than his normal tone across the night air. Without the teasing lilt in his voice, Lily swore the temperature climbed a few degrees. "We'll talk," he assured her once again, "But," and here, he tugged at her hands, "Do you think we can talk on the way to the kitchens? I don't think I ate dinner earlier, though I can't quite remember why that's so…"

It was Lily's turn to joke now as they tentatively rose to their feet, still under the cloak. "I believe it's because you were hiding from me, Potter."

"Ah, got me there," he said, snaking an arm around her waist. At her raised eyebrows, he supplied, "We've got to stick together, Evans, this cloak won't cover both of us unless we're careful."

He seemed far too smug about the situation, and as they started their slow trek back toward the castle, Lily groped at the cloak. A hefty tug was all she needed to expose them to the night air.

James froze, his eyes wide. "What the bloody hell are you doing, Lily? We'll be caught, someone will see us!"

Lily surveyed the gauzy material in her hands, then looked up with a smirk that would have made any Marauder proud. "Let them catch us, then. I'm tired of being careful." She reached up to cup the back of his neck, and pulled his face down until her breath skated sweetly across his lips. "Let them see."


End file.
